Morning Routine Interrupted…. 


  As usual John (our neighbor)’s alarm wakes me up first. I groan at the thin walls and quickly, without opening my eyes, bang on the wall and the alarm stops buzzing. 

I immediately draw the covers higher just to catch a few more minutes of sleep. Half of me wanting to get back to my dream. The other half, expecting to start smelling coffee and breakfast. Instead, it’s just sleep and some dream I am unable to remember right now. No coffee either. No breakfast as well. 

My alarm goes off some 20 minutes later and as I groan, this time, at the stupid alarm, John bangs on his wall and I quickly stop the alarm, pull away the covers and become fully awake. 

No coffee. 

No breakfast.  

Habit causes me to look over to your side and I remember now why I couldn’t smell coffee or breakfast. Why I will never smell coffee or your breakfast again. 



A Letter of Regret From Your Anxious and Depressed Friend



Dear Friend,

I was not always this way.

I did not always hide away from the general public for months or weeks at a time. Once I was quite confident. I occasionally felt happy. I had a full time job and I could face customers with no concern. I would chat to people over the phone, make an effort to see friends, be interested in daily life. I could cope with negativity. Overcome it, even. I wouldn’t let anything bring me down because I had something inside me that made me keep going out there, into the world, facing it all.

But sometimes, Friend, things happen. Sometimes just one thing. Sometimes many things. The courage to face these things is strong at first, at least stronger than now. But depending on luck, or coincidence, or fate, or opportunity, eventually the voice of that courage for some people is quieter. Weaker…

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Her Laziness 


She was very lazy

especially about 

things she wanted

but didn’t have

and most days

i’d want to scream

‘fucking get up and go get it’

but hearing her

tell me about how

she so wanted to matter

about how she wanted back

the body she had 7years ago

about how she wanted to be loved,

i wanted nothing more

than for her to never be

anything but lazy

just so

i could keep hearing

how she talked about 

all the things she wanted

but didn’t have.
          -Cynthia Atufu

Musings (3)….. Excerpt maybe? We’ll see


If there is one thing that being in the wrong relationship has taught me, it’s that in the end, we regret the time we wasted trying and succeeding in the loss of ourselves just because we think we are somehow broken and not enough and that this other person can fix it, can fix us; if only we could be what they need.  

But no one should ever feel that way. You should never aspire to be something or someone needed. You are not broken. You are enough. You do not need fixing. I know bad things happen that make you question all these things but believe me, they are just bad things and you do not have it worse. That’s the truth. 

It’s just bad things and they happen sometimes but another truth is that they never last for all time. Hold on, learn your lesson and move on. Easier said than done but it isn’t impossible. Get up and fight for you. And that’s what I did. I didn’t want to believe that was it for me. I was done lying and hiding who I was; who I am. It was high time, people got to meet me. So I fought for me and I won. 
I am a happy single mother who needs no one and who doesn’t desire to be needed and that’s fine. 
Sure, sharing my life with someone would be great but so far, that hasn’t worked out. So I made my peace with it. 

The Importance of being Honest 


I am tired of not saying exactly how I feel. 

I always make sure to sound vague just so you don’t catch on. 
But I can’t anymore because 

It leaves me so exhausted just lying here, eyes on the ceiling, bottling up all these feelings. 
I want to be able to weep, to scream, to break stuff, to damn you to hell for leaving me this heartbroken. 
I had trained my heart to be on its own but you had to give me fucking hope. Hope has yet again proven to be complete shit. 
So damn you Harold for breaking my heart, again; you piece of shit.